Good-Bye Finch by Robyn Schiff
When that which closeshopes. Better tomeasure. Leanerweaves the ravennearer the center, oursingle reminder which the black bird makes"find me, I am here" music,crying out"this food is not filling."...
View ArticleRotary by Christina Pugh
Closer to a bell than a bird,that clapper ringingthe clear nameof its inventor:by turns louderand quieter than a clock,its numbered facewas more literate,triplets of alphabetlike grace notesabove each...
View ArticleProfessor of Law Chris Borgen on "unacknowledged legislators"
Literature, at its best, bridges gaps of experience and culture. It helps you stand in another’s shoes. If one of the things we, as international lawyers, care about is a just world then fostering an...
View ArticleThe Collapse by Nicole Burdette
I’ve seen you cross an empty roomWith a bottle of booze in one handAnd a paper cup in the otherI’ve seen you thinking you were aloneBut I know betterAnd I’ve had visits from youWe were leaning in the...
View ArticleWhat Remains by Zachary Sussman
On the nightstand, a glass of water, a blank mirror: you’ve grown more remote than either, the fan of your ribcage now opening, now closed, in time with the rasping pipes.You’ve entered a place behind...
View ArticleWhat Hands Remember by Johanna Ekstrom
What hands rememberarms at sidesseeming to be waitingthe big wordssleep beneaththe palm of the handa sweet suckedto a sliverwords like glassa splinter under the fingernailWho died of love?In the lining...
View ArticleAglow by Matthew Zapruder
AGLOWHello everyone, hello you. Here we are under this sky.Where were you Tuesday? I was at the El Rancho Motel in Gallup.Someone in one of the nameless rooms was dying, slowlythe ambulance came, just...
View ArticlePoem Half in the Manner of Li Po by Charles Wright
All things aspire to weightlessness, some place beyond the lip of language,Some silence, some zone of grace,Sky white as raw silk, opening mirror cold-sprung in the west,Sunset like dead grass.If God...
View ArticleElements by Katie Hartsock
The air you breathe freezeson your beard, rough strandsicicled and gleaming like the trees. I bring my mouth to your chinand with my tongueI eat your breath. We are walking in an ice land;Does...
View ArticleA Day More Like the Next Than Like the One Before by Mark Bowen
The sun raises itself, tired and unsteady,into a sky tilting with the insolenceof an uninspired painting. It's a mild day,the temperature of a gentle acid-tripas experienced by shy,...
View ArticleObjet by Mary Kinzie
Dear child, whyis it still, along the pillowthis hand of yours halfopen on the brightnessthrown by the lampanemone inwater the currentonce passed throughIn sleep you answerthat life catchesagainst the...
View ArticlePartial Clearance by John Koethe
Barely a week laterI'd returned to myself again.But where a light perspective of particularsUsed to range under an accommodating blue skyThere were only numb mind tones, thoughts clenched like little...
View ArticleSwans by Henri Cole
From above we must have looked like ordinarytourists feeding winter swans, though it wasthe grit of our father we flung hardinto the green water slapping against the pier,where we stood soberly...
View ArticlePortrait of Man with a Lily by Linda Bierds
After the miniature by Hans Holbein the YoungerThrough the window, winter,black oxen slumped in the pastures. Someone's whistle,then the chatter of wagon wheels as, carriageby carriage, some king or...
View ArticleAnniversary by Mary Stewart Hammond
Tonight they were bringing my brother up from the deep,nothing so grand as the sea, merelya quarry in Georgia, barelya mile or two wide and floodedto a depth of 200 feet, no biggerin the scheme of...
View ArticleUseful Advice by Carl Dennis
Suppose you sat writing at your deskBetween days, long before dawn,The only one up in town,And suddenly saw out the windowA great star float by,Or heard on the radio sweet voicesFrom wandering Venus or...
View ArticleMemoria Historikoa, or Historical Memory, by Kirmen Uribe, translated from...
Londres. Brixton auzoa. Eskuot batean hiru japoniar.Afaria egin dugu. Bihar hegaldia daukat Bilbora.Te beroaz Bigarren Mundu Gerra hizpide.Japoniako zaharrek horri buruz ez dute ezer esaten,kontatu du...
View ArticleSeries #22 (white) by Page Starzinger
Oil and gesso on canvas Robert Ryman, 20041.As if it were still the 17th century, when consciousjust entered the English language, meaning secret and shameful:2.the whitewash of brushstrokes over...
View Article6 by Catullus, translated by Peter Green
Flavius, that sweetie of yours (Catullus speaking)must be totally inelegant and unsmart-you couldn't keep quiet otherwise, you'd tell me.Fact is, it's just some commonplace consumptivetart you're mad...
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